


Subtext

by orphan_account



Category: Hikaru no Go
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-09-23
Updated: 2008-09-23
Packaged: 2017-10-13 02:25:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/131797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Towards the end of their time in Kaio, Hidaka and Kishimoto play a match.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Subtext

Hidaka asked him for a game of _shidougo_ two weeks before exams started, eight weeks before they left Kaio forever. Neither of them had touched a _goban_ for three months. For Hidaka it was a natural transition, regretful but necessary to life and common sense and realistic time management. Kishimoto, well - it was a silly thought of course, but it felt like his hands had changed somehow, since November. They'd remodelled, adjusted to gripping pencils and erasers. When he took hold of a stone his fingers felt stiff as chopsticks out of alignment; the white glass was cold and strange against his overgrown fingernail.

She won _nigiri_ , refused a handicap, began at 4-3. She would lose, that was accepted and expected; Kishimoto did not like holding back, and Hidaka had no respect for it. She'd have been a good _insei_ , if she had the talent; the talent was, of course, the most important qualification.

"Should I connect here?" she asked, thirty-five moves in, hand hovering above her wooden bowl.

"We'll discuss the game when it's over."

She made a face at him and placed the stone, slid it across the board with no hesitancy. It lasted another half-hour after that; it should have been quicker but Kishimoto was – rusty.

After she conceded she immediately took control of the conversation: "Where are you going next year?"

He named the school and she made an excellent show of being impressed. "That school's totally elite! Doesn't have a very good Go club though, does it?"

“That's not important.”

She didn't even bother with looking skeptical. “Well, I'm trying for the school whose girls' team won the prefecturals last May. I like Go, you know." She added, "Just like you."

Kishimoto did not respond, merely pointed to a weakness in black's upper right formation and suggested an alternate move. Hidaka bent her head in concentration; the breeze coming through the classroom's jalousie windows ruffled her hair, and it struck him that she was remarkably pretty – something he'd noted before, of course, but didn't usually waste time contemplating.

He didn't waste time now. He drew her attention to a shape in the middle and kept explaining, but his thoughts, like his hands, seemed to have rearranged themselves; it felt awkward, to think through latencies, invasion, succeeding moves. He persisted nevertheless. He was used to applying effort where nature would not supply.

"Thanks for the game, Kishimoto. I really appreciate it,” she said, when they'd put away the stones and _goban_.

"It's no problem."

“We should be able to meet now and again, next year.” Her gaze met his, then; he saw bright eyes, soft skin, all the things he'd never considered when his heart was preoccupied with ideas of territory, formations, sitting _seiza_ in a room of artificial light while outside the sun blazed and children went about the business of growing up.

“We should,” he said, and because he had known what it was like to fail before, he did not inject too much hope into the words. But she seemed to understand.


End file.
